THE ART OF DYING (English Translation)
by Siuxxa
Summary: Abigail, the goth. Alice, the punk. Bet, the heavy. Liza, the emo. And Mike, the new. They'll show us their weird lifes with every song of the band "Art of Dying" And showing what those words mean... A translation of the Spanish version. If you see any grammar mistake, please comment it.


"Two sides of a knife

Story of my life

The pain is sharp

A comfort bleeds thorugh

I can't seem to clear my head

I wish that I was dead

Falling apart

Cause I still need you

I don't know how,

I don't know when

But I can finally breathe again

Life's too short,

The day's too long,

In the end

I knew it all along

Like a newborn child

Like a raven in the wind

I can finally breathe again

I can finally breathe again"

She could not take it anymore. She had tried, really she did, but could not go anymore. Not even all the songs, all movies, all the stories in the world could make her change her mind. There was no turning back. She decided that way, and although in the depths of her mind there was a little voice telling her not to do so, the cries that guided the cutter she held in her hand outweighed her sense of reason.

She had tried everything, had tried to ignore the world, had tried not to give it the satisfaction of disappear. But every day that pressure she could not release was accumulating relentlessly. No matter how many albums she listened each day, with how much people she spoke on the Internet. She did not care all, it was time to admit defeat and get it over with. It wasn't the first time she tried, that planned it. But this time it was serious, and would not back down. There was no way to do it.

Liza was sitting in a corner of the girls' bathroom at school. She had been planning everything all week. In the fifteen minutes it lasted the second break, she would wait until the bathroom were deserted, carrying the pencil case with her as a camouflage. Inside it, there would be THE note and the cutter. She had thought to take a knife, but it was too ostentatious, and scissors neither do a great job. After that, two simple cuts and then wait. What she was not sure about was what she would do next, maybe write on the walls with her own blood, or leave a trail until where drop dead.

The fact is that now she was sitting in the corner, still hesitating whether to do it or not. When she thought it, it did not seem such a bad idea, indeed, was pleased about it. It would be a warning to the world, a silent and eternal complaint. And incidentally, she would rest in peace once and for all. But perhaps she had not thought at all ... Maybe it was not such a nice idea. Well, if she thought so, why was crying so much, still struggling between life or death? Why the hell she couldn't do it again? Why not end it all? Maybe because she could not silence that little voice. She never ignored it, but in his view had brought only more pain. She decided to ignore it for the first time.

Liza rolled up her sweater sleeves. She turned his left wrist, making the palm apuntase to her. And her veins too. It was simple, dammit, as simple as a cut. A moment of pain, perhaps the surprise of seeing his own blood and ready. All set. Why the hell she could not do it?!

Then she saw the blurred butterfly painted on her wrist. This time she had let Alice to draw it, and was very artistic, with black lines, thin and curved, elegant. So she called it Alice. She believed to have still something of Andy, his former butterfly. How many would ya? Nine? That were excessive, indicating that the method did not work either. Not even that worked. Each time she had the urge to do it, had drawn a butterfly instead of a scar. And she had put a name to each one. She had to wait until it erased by itself, and could not be cut in any way. She had to care for her, love her. And if she cut, the butterfly would die. When Alice drew it, she waited to give her a better result, as it was a butterfly even more special. However, it decided that it was best to kill her. It was better that not suffer.

She sighed heavily, letting a few tears fell down her cheeks. She put the cutter over the butterfly, hesitantly. Pressed slightly:

Liza! Don't! –shouted a voice.

Then a hand grasped it and quickly snatched her hand off the cutter, throwing it under the doors of the toilets. Liza began to mourn even more, just because Ishe was confused. Did she done it? Was she dead?

Then, those hands who saved her life fell on her shoulders, trying to look her gaze. Liza swung her head, frightened. When she managed to stare, she saw Abigail's dark eyes, that were wide, wet, looking frightened.

That was close, Abigail thought. A second later and maybe it would have been too late. That was so fucking close!

Liza? Lizzie, are you okay? -Aby asked sighing, frightened.

But Liza failed to articulate any words, only began to mourn even more, hiding her face in her hands. She was still sitting in the corner. Abigail sat beside her, holding her desperately, like an unique bird , a wonderful and scared creature.

Both remained there for a few moments, in which Abigail also allowed that a few tears come out of her eyes. She had received the worst shock of his life.

- Sorry -sobbed Liza with a sharp small voice-. I'm sorry ...

- But Lizzie, why? I, did not think you would do this ... -admitted sobbing.

- Me neither. But I almost do. I was going to... - repeated as if she did not believe what she was saying-. I almost, I could, but not ...

- Quiet, you're done. Nothing happened, you're fine. You're still here. God, how I'm glad you are still here... -said Aby hugging her even more.

- It's only that I could not more, my world was falling over me. I do not want to suffer, I do not want this anymore. It's too ...

- What? Too much for you? Am I hearing right? I see that you have also been beaten in the head. Spoke one of the strongest people I know.

- Oh ... really?

- Of course. You have more problems than anyone else, you have every right to feel ... How to say it? Tired. Exhausted, you know? But look, you have struggled with your problems day after day, for a long time. You are very strong, and I'm telling the truth.

- I do not think so ...

- Maybe not now, but you will. God! Are you really going to give that satisfaction to the world? Are you really going to surrender? Would you let the bad guys win?

- If that means stop fighting ...

- Life itself is a constant struggle -said Aby.- We must fight against absolutely everything, because everything turns against you. Especially for people like us. But that's the main reason we should not give up, because we who will drive the world forwards. We need you here, Liza, not two feet underground. All need you, and a lot of people will. You will save many souls, I know you will. We need you to change the world.

- I'm not that kind of people ...

- Do I have to remind you that Mr. Gerard Arthur Way thought the same? He and many more. But did they surrendered? No, never! They fought to the end, managed to gain a foothold in society, rescued thousands of people who lost their ways, they helped us. Think what would have happened if in the time they thought about suicide, they had done it.

- I've never imagined it ... - she thought, feeling a shiver running down his back.

- You cannot know what you will do in the future. But you can dream. Think of all the songs, all the stories, all the experiences that you would miss if you decide to go away. And not only that, think of what you can create. You can create everything, your world, share your ideas. And in the end, you'll see that there are people like you in the world, you're not alone. And then you'll find your way. But do not give up, please, do not ever. We still want to know what you're capable of.

Liza said nothing, just wiped the tears nodding. Suddenly, it did not seem such a good idea. The little voice that spoke inside her became louder, managed to silence their death wishes. And then it became a powerful melody, a potent song that echoed pleasantly in her head and made her draw a smile in her lips. She imagined everything could still do, everything she could experience. All she could share with the world, although only two people would appreciate it. But their bit could tip the balance in full, could break the rules. And then she longed to break them all so much.

Similarly Abigail smiled, relieved to breathe again. It had been a bad time, a scare. But it was over, she could inspire calmly. She helped Liza to stand up, and while she was washing her face with water, Aby collected things from her pencil case and put them back in it. Everything but the cutter, which she broke in half and threw it out the window. Just in case. Also got rid of the note, which ended in the bottom of one of the toilets.

- Please do not tell this to anyone, - Liza begged-. Then they would begin to point me a finger aggressively and only make things worse.

- Telling what? -she said with a confident smile.

- I swear I will not do it again. Really.

- I don't care about that. What really matters to me is how you feel. Life is not easy, and never will be. But that's why you have me, me and all. Even Mike. Before you do a crazy, just tell us everything, please. Otherwise, what are friends for?

The bell that marked the end of recess rang with intensity, as if the shooting of a film was over. For the first time, the two girls attended smiling to their next class, letting that what had happened only remain between them two and the four bathroom walls.

However, Abigail partially breached her promise. But she did it with good intentions. The next morning, she appeared with Alice, Beth and Mike. They went to the place where Liza was sitting, writing, waiting for the call to go to school. With a mischievous smile, all of them rolled up the sleeves of their shirts and sweaters, revealing white bandages around different parts of the arms. Carefully, without saying anything, in front of the startled eyes of Liza, the bandages were removed, revealing a recently tattoo , with even irritated skin. They were of different colors, shapes and styles. But they were all the same, a butterfly. And in each of them, there was also a recorded name: "Liza"

- If you do not mind -interrupted Mike-, mine is made with a permanent pen. But I promise that the intention is the same.

Liza said nothing, only just smiled from ear to ear. Now she would not try it anymore. She had to keep alive those butterflies. Because they were the most special butterflies she had seen in her life.


End file.
